


This is the hive that hate built

by oncewewerezombies



Series: Homesmut fills [9]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bulges and Nooks, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Post-S7 au, Xeno, bluh bluh bluh everybody made it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-06-03 19:14:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6622915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oncewewerezombies/pseuds/oncewewerezombies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SHIT! Let's get hate married.</p>
<p>I want to see domestic hate fluff like squabbling over the thermostat on the recuperacoon or a daily challenge to see who's stuck doing the dishes. THe relationship should be well established and respectful, with the two parties keeping each other in line.</p>
<p>(When I say any/any I mean any trolls, humans, carapacians or cherubs, but I feel like this prompt might not work as well for a human/human relationship)</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is the hive that hate built

There's a stupid note written out in violet pen in the fucking cookie box Janey gave you, the pretty little box of pastel blues and pinks, striped.

And no cookies, of course.

That fin-faced smug ass bastard in his stupidly good looking tight jeans.

You think the note is meant to be an apology of some kind and you suppose at least he owned up to the theft straight out (ugh but who else was going to eat the cookies in your fucking house right outta your fucking nutritionblock? A ghost? That wasn't even a thing any more) but all it makes you see is spades. Spades everywhere. Little black darts of pure loathing, all directed at one particular freaaaaaking troll, who made a habit of getting on your last nerve and working you up. In more ways than one elemeffayoh.

You'd really been looking forward to those cookies too. Jane had used a cutter that shaped them like kitty heads with adorable little ears, just like your favourite t-shirt, and iced them real nice, just like something out of a proper bakery shop. They'd been adorable, and made just for you - which was probably why the butthead had eaten them, outside of how delicious they probably were and that trollish obsession for sugar in every form. He could have left at least one! Or you don't even know, not fucking eaten them because _they fucking weren't for him_ and actually they were _your_ special bffsies cookies. It's probably the only taste of pure delicious love he's ever ever gotten, the asshole, because no one fucking loves him.

So you feed his special faux-Beforan dried fish snacks to Vodka Mutini the Fifth, because fuck that greaser wannabe, that's why. Cronus probably thought you wouldn't touch them because of how ostentatiously grossed out you acted when he brought them in the house. They were stinky, and pretty disgusting with their little eyes and ittybitty fins, but the cat thought they were just the fucking whiskers and a full meow's worth of pajamas, so. You'd had to touch them, but you hadn't had to eat them to get back at him for the heinous crime of eating Janeybabe's made just for you special cookies. Still, washing your hands to get the fish smell off had taken a few applications of soap and water, and Mutini is now exiled from your bedroom until the fish smell is off her breath, so it was a sacrifice but. It. Is. Just.

Worth it.

You can't wait until he finds out what you've done, he's going to hit the roof. It will be fucking spectacular. 

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] started pestering chassisAbyssopelagic [CA]

TG: ur such an ass!!!!  
CA: avww baby doll don't say such things, that's harsh.  
CA: also you like my ass don't fuckin deny.  
CA: #it's a nice ass #tw: cutie vwith a booty  
TG: my cookies crodiddly  
TG: superspesh janey made with love fuckin cookies  
TG: the kitty cookies the cookies meant for roxy those cookies  
CA: uh.  
CA: i left a note? right i'm sure i left a note.  
CA: #there vwas totally a note  
TG: that doesnt actuallly make it better u asshole  
TG: this means war  
TG: or should i say  
TG: vwar  
CA: vwowww...  
CA: you're usin my quirk and ewverything.  
CA: i'm fucking svwooning over here, kitten.  
CA: #hot hot #hotter than a tater tot  
TG: fuck u  
TG: fuck yr stupid FACE  
CA: you knovw... #tw: lightbulb  
CA: when i get home, you should come and sit on my face, babe, that's a real neato idea you just gave me there.  
CA: eyyyy? #finger guns #vwiggle vwiggle  
CA: vwhat do you think, baby doll?  
TG: ugh  
CA: avwww, you like it, you knovw you do.  
TG: UGH NO x (1 million) x (∞)  
TG: see my math of how gross you are and take it for inalienable truths  
TG: it is a masterpiece, a pure fucking desc of the universe with u in it and u being so grossssss  
TG: this is my face r ight now XP XP XP XP  
CA: nah, more like an O face  
CA: #tw: pailing insinuations #bang bang baby #bovw chicka bovw  
CA: that's the face you're gonna be making.  
CA: fucking ecstatic with your thighs clamped around the sides of my head.  
TG: u think ur such hot stuff  
TG: ur so wrong  
TG: wrong like a fuckkin wrong thing  
TG: the wrongest fucking thing evah  
CA: babe.  
CA: i'm not just hot stuff.  
CA: i'm cool to the point of bein ice fuckin cold.  
CA: #and you knovw it #get a load of that royal vwiolet #right you knovw vwhere  
TG: UGH!!!!!  
TG: gdi ur so gross  
CA: you still can't get enough of this smooth, suawve action, kitten.  
TG: ugh i acn an i have

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] stopped pestering chassisAbyssopelagic [CA]

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] has blocked chassisAbyssopelagic [CA]!

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] has started pestering timaeusTestified [TT]

TG: imma kill him  
TT: Oh, nice to see you too, Roxy.  
TT: I'm assuming you mean your lamentable partner in loathing?  
TT: You know you won't.  
TG: this time its different!!!  
TG: hes gone 2 far  
TG: he stole janeybaes cookies the ones she amde just 4 me  
TG: MY ADORABLE LIL KITTY COOKIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
TT: Well, in that fucking case.  
TT: Do you have something planned for the funeral, or should I just come over now in black and my formal shades to see him buried in the backyard?  
TG: i dunno  
TG: i fed his stupid fishie snacks to the cat  
TG: it made me feel a lil better  
TT: Hopefully not to the detriment of the cat.  
TG: nah mutini scoffed em n looked 4 moar  
TT: A cat who knows her high priced fakey nostalgic troll snacks, I see.  
TG: high priced?  
TT: Oh yeah. Not that I'm into that, I prefer my food not to look back at me, but, yeah, stuff like that is hard to get a hold of and has a price point to match.  
TG: uh oh  
TG: shit  
TT: C'mon, Lalonde, it's fair, right?  
TT: He took your one of a kind cookies from Jane and no doubt shoved them straight down his Saarlac pit of a mouth, you took his stupid overpriced fish comestibles and fed them to your small, fluffy yet fierce companion animal.  
TT: Besides, isn't this kind of shit what being in a kismesissitude is about?  
TG: spose  
TG: maybe ur right, u know, for once  
TT: You know the fact that you two live together completely freaks out every troll I talk to.  
TT: It's hilarious.  
TT: Sometimes I bring it up to the smaller Vantas just to watch him go off about the sanctity of quadrants and how you're tainting the meaning of a pitch romance. I'll record it for you next time, shit's golden.  
TG: do not do this thing, dstridez, ill be fine not hearing thnx  
TG: sometimes its nice not to haev to go trawlin for a good time u kno  
TG: hes a jerk bt the sex is always niiiiiiiice  
TG: hes very decorative  
TT: Uh uh, no. Stop. Desist. You've crossed the line, madam.  
TG: he got a nice butt. i could bounce a quarter off that pretty ass  
TT: I can see the line disappearing into the distance, the highway patrol is starting to issue tickets for the misdemeanour offence of Too Fucking Far God Damn It Stop.  
TG: n whn i pinch his cute lil ear fins he goes all snarly and kinda squeaky at th same tiem  
TT: Fuckin quit it, Lalonde, you vile wench.  
TG: lmaooooo babe u kno u like it whn i tell u bout my awesum adventures in the land of alien hatemance  
TT: I really don't, because hearing about you and sex honestly isn't my idea of a good time, although I'm glad to hear you're enjoying living with your fishy friend.  
TG: WELP  
TG: spose im gonna have to apologise or something  
TG: ughhhhhhhh i dun wanna  
TT: No, don't.  
TT: You know he doesn't really deserve it, and he'll hold it over your head later like the bastard he is.  
TG: better watch it stridercakes or i might think you aiming your pitch sights at my hatebae  
TG: hes a fiiiiine piece of awfully hateful fishass  
TT: Hahaha, no.  
TT: I'll stick to my rivalry with that lisping shithead, thanks.  
TG: oh? that goin ok and shiz????  
TT: Just fine, as these things tend to go. At least I think so.  
TT: It's all still fucking weird, even though there's nothing I'd rather do with that bee-obsessed wannabe hacker who thinks he can write circles around my meticulous fucking programming than punch him in the mouth with my mouth and make him cry fucking uncle despite him cheating with his bro damn psionics.  
TT: Fucking cheater. His ~ATH shit is off the charts though, and I have to admit the rivalry is really pushing my learning curve through the fucking roof. He hasn't managed to explode one of my computing devices in about a month, I think I'm finally getting the hang of this stupid double-looped troll code.  
TG: glad 2 hear u havin fun with ur beeboy distri  
TG: were humans mebbe its to be expected  
TG: that we  
TG: u kno  
TG: dont quite get it even if we like it  
TT: Still, I don't think either of our partners in the black romantic quadrant are...unhappy. I mean, they're probably unhappy but not, what's the best way to put this...unsatisfied.  
TG: oh man no if crodiddums was unhappy or not geting the the attention he THINKZ he deserves, evry body would kno all bout it  
TG: he kind of a pouty bb  
TG: i think we good  
TG: well  
TG: i mighta gone a bit far this time  
TT: It'll be fine. I have faith in your abilities to manipulate your greaser fish like a finely tuned instrument, Roxy Lalonde.  
TT: You'll make him forget all about the fucking things you fed to your cat.  
TG: mm! i sure hope so  
TG: i don want him 2 b mad at me 5ever  
TG: just long enuff to get some real good hatescrewing in  
TG: unf unf  
TT: God fucking damn it, Rox.  
TT: Stop. Cease. De-fucking-sist.  
TG: my dastardly plans oh ho ho  
TG: how did i ever live w/o alien tentadick straight outta a gd hentai  
TT: God fucking bless the troll bulge, on that we are agreed...but seriously, Lalonde, quit it.  
TG: lolllollllol  
TG: im rollin here bbcakes  
TG: im a healthy gurl  
TG: i got needs  
TG: soooo many needs  
TT: I am more than fucking aware, and I don't think I need to know about them, or how you plan to assuage them. I think I've never needed to know, and will never achieve a need to know basis at any point in the future.  
TG: k ill stop thne  
TG: i feel better neway n i think i have some stuff to get done before crocro gets hive  
TT: Good.  
TT: I think that's satisfactory completion of my role in this friend thing we have going. Talked you down out of your emotional tree like a frightened cat lured by expensive troll fish treats.  
TG: lmao  
TG: sure, lets go with that  
TG: cyber fist bunp?  
TT: Cyber fist bunp.  
TG: alrighty  
TG: i got a greaser 2 distray from the case of the suddenly missing fish snax as jcrock would say  
TG: i feel better  
TG: thnx dirkie  
TT: Not a broblem, Rox. As far as emotional crises of sudden regret go, this one was small and manageable.  
TT: I'm here for you, you know, in my own emotionally stunted way.  
TG: i kno, n i appreciate it  
TG: lookit u steppin outta ur comfort zones and dealin with feelins  
TG: i am amazed right here n now amazed i tell u  
TG: gold star striderkinz  
TG: ttyl!

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] has stopped pestering timaeusTestified [TT]

 

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] has unblocked chassisAbyssopelagic [CA]!

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] started pestering chassisAbyssopelagic [CA]

TG: and pick up somethin for dinner!  
CA: oh so youre talkin to me novw?  
CA: im honoured, princess.  
CA: #tw: sarcasm  
TG: not fish! u always want fish  
CA: maybe it'll be fish, maybe it vwont.  
CA: #hint: it's gonna be fish  
TG: get some cluckbeast fillets, ive got a recipe i wanna try  
CA: picky fucking humans, no appreciation for grub meat.  
TG: um ew dead troll babies??????  
CA: they taste pretty good alright, i should make you grubloaf sometime with tuberpaste on the side.  
CA: but alright, cluckbeast it is, pidge.  
CA: #fussy fussy #tw: xenocentrism #its you #youre the xenocentrist  
TG: boo you whore  
TG: i aint eating grubmeat unless u can prove it aint from a lil adorbs bb troll to my satisfaction and thats that  
CA: cluckbeast bavwk bavwk.  
CA: anyvway, mowving on...  
CA: this a troll recipe or some human thing?  
TG: troll, i got it from the lil leijon  
TG: looks ok for a human tum tho  
TG: also still mad at u!!!!!  
CA: ha!  
CA: #colour me surprised #only not #tw: sarcasm again  
CA: didnt think you'd get over it that easily, but thats ok, youre pretty fuckin cute when you're mad.  
TG: am i now?  
TG: u jst hold onto that thought fuckboy  
TG: well just see how cute u think i am  
CA: uhhh.  
CA: #owverwvhelmed vwith sudden regrets  
CA: babe? vwhat are you doing?  
CA: should i be concerned or somethin here?  
TG: dun dun DUN  
CA: fuck.

 

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] stopped pestering chassisAbyssopelagic [CA]

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] has blocked chassisAbyssopelagic [CA]!

 

When you hear him come in the door, you've managed to do a few other things to act as low grade sandpaper across his nerves. You know exactly when he comes hive because he almost breaks the fucking door when he slams it, like, really? Cronus needs a moirail something chronic but you're not sure if that's something a kismesis gets to say. You have Dirk and Janey and Jake, and sometimes Rose and if you were really stuck, you could reach out to her friends too, but you do get the feeling that not a lot of the other trolls like him very much so that's kind of a dead end there, and you're also well aware of your pale fucking immorality, as Vantas the Smaller likes to call it. Honestly, he should be over that, he's one of the trolls that actually made it to the meteor and past the initial murder frenzy of the clown and the spiderbitch, and hello, shacked up with Dave-sweetums _right now_. Humans're all just pale whores, friendzoning each other to gay infinity and comforting each other with nary a thought to proper papping etiquette. But back to all your many devices to just drive Cronus right outta his god damn mind with spades frenzy, because a black romance is what you've got, both of you, spades pouring straight outta both your sets of eyes like the heart-sparkles of a shoujou heroine in some shitty anime when you look at each other.

You've added another wizard to the collection on the mantelpiece and the grand wizard Byzantalthiar has some real wicked robeage going on, in this sorta almost pink-purple that reminded you of the Peixes chicks, with one of the best beards you've ever seen and a staff topped with a pinky rose quartz crystal. You'd been saving him for a rainy day when you really wanted to irritate your fishy black romance, and you've put him carefully front and centre, juuuuust in front of the Marlon Brando poster that Kankri bought Cronus for his wriggling day the last annual rotation of the sun (you never know whether to say sweep or year, and neither's exactly right in this not quite Earth, not quite Beforus or Alternia after-Game planet you've made all together). You've amped up the volume and you're watching Troll Harry Potter, the third one, the one he really really hates like whoa, you've had to buy multiple copies because _somehow_ yours keep disappearing. It can't be the same movie he watched when he was alive on Beforus but for some reason it just really fucking irritates him and it's kind of hilarious how much he hates it. It's not even your favourite, but if you want to get him cursing and huffing, you just need to slip that disc right into the player and press play.

_And_ a new movie poster of Gandalf a la Sir Ian McKellan (god bless the Game for having some things just the same, no Lord of the Rings movie would be worth it with a different Gandalf), in all his wizardy beardy glory right up on the wall that people saw as soon as they opened the front door to your combined house/hive, replacing the Grease movie cast poster. You hadn't actually minded the Grease poster that much, but hey. This is battle game interior decorating, decorations as a form of aggression and you always fight to win. Especially with Cronus. Besides, it hadn't been a lot of work to pull down the framed movie poster from your respiteblock wall, bring down the Grease one and switch. His poster is now in his room, you're some kinda garbage but not that kinda garbage.

Maybe you should have found something else besides wizards to torment Cronus with when you're trying to get back at him for the stupid selfish shit he does without thinking, but why bother, when wizards are pretty much guaranteed to make him froth at the mouth every time? Or whatever the piscine equivalent of suffering from rabies and a surfeit of excitement and rage is. He should know better by now, you retaliate by burning the crops and salting the earth, you take no prisoners, you exact your vengeance in the most subtle and relentless of passive aggressive ways - interior decorating. It's not like he doesn't give as good as he gets, just for an example amongst the many, you lost a bet once and he made you make a vblog post of you reading some of your wizardly fiction, the not so kiddy parts to be posted online to horrify and terrorize your post-Game compatriots. 

It had been the grammatical corrections by Rosie that you received in an email the day after that had been the worst part of that whole exercise (even if they'd actually been kinda useful! You're aware that grammar is not your strong point even if you do write some bitchin wizardly porn).

To be perfectly fair, your kismesissitude with Cronus works perfectly well, to your standards absolutely and even to troll ones, as far as you can tell. You both irritate the piss out of each other, but he keeps you sober out of low key spite to prove him wrong about you and the emotional crutches you need now post-Game as much as your desire not to hurt your friends by diving back into a bottle because damn, shit is hard sometimes when you're full on sober, and you keep him...you almost want to say as unlike Cronus as possible, but that's not quite true either. You keep him a little bit truthful. Open. You make him say what he means, what's really on his mind, and not what he thinks is going to get himself into someone's panties, underthings, etc - although you are pretty fucking sure he wouldn't cheat on his one established quadrant, he's a sleazeball for sure but he's not a complete and utter dirtbag. He still wrinkles your fucking panties though, creeps right up the crack of your ass with his little lipcurling sneer. Handy, because then all you want to do is take them right off.

You're working hard on making him less of a jerk through harsh application of stick and a little bit of carrot, it's aggravating because you can see how he could be a better person, _if he just tried_. There's like flashes of a Real Boy underneath all the movie style greaser, fakey human bullshit he slathers himself in. It's not like being a troll is a bad thing to be! Most of the Beforan trolls are such posers, they got like this superfake veneer but you think you're getting pretty good at chipping Crobaby's off, in the aim of unsheathing a hopefully beautiful butterfly and not something gross, because boy oh boy would that make this a waste of your time. Although, even if you did make him a little better, you don't think you'll ever really stop hating him. You never patronize him, you just tease him with wizards and stuff that he says is wiggler grade petty shit and you think you make him relax, make him realise that not everything has to be either a flirtatious fucking come on or a complete and total rejection of him as a person. Somehow.

Sometimes it's both at the same time, considering the nature of your relationship but you think that you've both gotten the hang of it by now.

You still have your running strife over whose turn it is to do the dishes, or cook, or clean the load gaper or vacuum the floors. Or do anything domestic really, at this point you're considering just taking some of his cash to pay for a cleaner because at least then _shit will be done_. Also he is shit at cleaning, like what did his last slave die of because you plan to avoid that fate. You're not even sure if that's a kismesis thing or just the way that people can get living in a house with each other because all of this is new to you too. You had the Carapacians and your cats before you got into the Game, and they was great, you don't want anybody to get you wrong, but it's not the same as having someone who talks back. Even if 'argues back' is the default mode of conversation, strafing runs of banter from when you both got up in the morning to when you hit the sheets (or the slime, in his case) at night. You like the company, hanging out on the couch and pinching each other slyly, watching something terrible on the tv in mutual disgust or pulling out one of somebody's favourite movies so that the other can rip it to shreds and both of you flick popcorn at each other in between mockery. And then sometimes, he does stupid petty shit like eat your fucking cookies before you even have _one_ , god damn it, you'd been looking forward to them _all day_. Seriously, you're going to cram the entire empty box up his wastechute, as he so quaintly refers to his god damn asshole, corners first. No lube. 

The sex is great though, you're seriously not kidding about that. For a selfish bastard, he's pretty focused on getting his partner off. Mainly because it's a sop to his fucking ego, how loud he can make you scream, how much he can make you want him and hate him. God, sometimes you just want to wreck him whole and entire.

He drops the bag of groceries on top of your head, even though you are currently sprawled out across the couch in the daisy dukes you _know_ he likes you to wear, even if only so he can remove them with his teeth. For a fin-faced jerk with a mouthful of superpointy, interlocky fangs that resemble, as Dirk pointed out, a Saarlac pit, he can be surprisingly gentle with them if he tries. And man, does he have one long tongue, much longer than any human one you've ever seen. "Hey!" you squawk, and throw a cushion at him as he scowls down at you, that pouty corner of his mouth out in full force. Hair slicked back, but just that bit tousled where he'd obviously raked his fingers through his hair in frustration when he saw what you'd done at the front door.

It's a good look for the cookie stealing asshole.

Makes you wanna get your hands in there and tousle it up more. Get him all rumpled and out of that coiffed poise, bite that pouty lip until it's bruised up. You loooove to muss him up, get him panting and mad and teeth-baring and wreck his fucking perfect hair. He spends so much time on it, on preening and primping, like he thinks a pretty facade covers up the bullshit he's full of on the inside. Your own soft curls are already tangled from laying around on the couch, and you pull the bag of groceries off your head and sit up. Ok, ow, but at least it hadn't had anything hard in it, just squishy soft things that were a bit heavy. A dick move, but not too much of a dick move. "So, you hungry or something, you want dinner? Is that what you're hinting at, fish boy?" Oh, now he's looking down your top and you just get up off the couch, and sashay your way into the kitchen, bag of groceries in hand. "Maybe I don't wanna feed you now, you think 'bout that before you started dropping shit on my head, daddio?"

"As if you'd pass up a chance to show off how you can actually manage to cook something in the nutritionblock without absolutely ruining it, I mean, if you can manage it this time," he snipes at you, and oh hello, cool hand on your ass. You slap it away and dump the bag on the counter, bending down to grab a pan out from beneath the sink. His hands cup your waist, thumbs on your belly and palms on your ass in an inhuman rotation of his wrists and you slap them again, a little meaner and harder this time, as you straighten up and put the pan down on the stove top. "Yowch! Someone's feeling bitchy."

"Well, maybe I'm just _feeling a little hungry_ , and not in the mood to be pawed at, you creep," you snap back at him and twirl your finger in the air, circle and circle again, before pointing at the fridge. "Dear sweet Nepeta's recipe is on the thermal hull, so why don't you have a look and get me out what I need? See if you can manage not to eat anything that I need for the recipe as you go, ok? Ok."

You're very aware of his presence in the kitchen, but you both have this down, you can move around each other like orbiting planetoids, not quite touching, just inches away from violent fiery collision. The swing dancing definitely helped with that, the two of you have this bizarre sense of spatial awareness around each other now. It's kind of great, and the dancing lessons are super fun. He chops, you flip shit in a pan, you argue over brown rice or white rice, and you fucking win with brown because fuck Cronus, you need to eat a little healthy sometimes and you think the nutty taste of the unbleached rice will taste pretty good with what Nepeta has described the recipe as tasting as. Besides, rice cooker, turns it out perf every time. Also, you're not making him eat lentils, something he had told you tasted exactly like Troll Clag Paste to which of course you had asked him how he knew what paste tasted like, to which he had retorted, eloquent as all fuck, shut your fucking mouth, Lalonde. You still bring it up every so often, the fact that he's a paste eater.

Dinner is actually pretty great, you're getting better at this domestic shit after growing up as the only human for thousands of miles and without proper parenting from anything except Carapacians, who had always just been happy to eat raw pumpkin. It's also the only way the two of you eat something other than Cronus' much more limited culinary repertoire or alternatively, something from the vast and exciting new world of Troll-Human-Carapacian fusion delivery food. If you don't order the pizza first, it always winds up with weird shit on it, although you hadn't really minded the squid, or octopus, or whatever it was, that one time. Cronus had been expecting you to be grossed out or something (hello, grew up in a dystopic aquatic wasteland, you're used to eating all kinds of sea trash), but you just fixed your eye on his and bit down deliberately onto a purple coloured tentacle, severing it with your teeth. Then chewed, maintaining eye contact like the fucking alpha you are. It's not your fault that he'd gone all kindsa pale and then excused himself from the table after that, you _certainly_ hadn't picked tentacles to be put onto your innocent circular flat bread with marinara sauce and cheese. If you'd been ordering pizza, you would have gone for oinkbeast strips and jalapeños. Just your own taste, you've eaten enough fish and nothing else besides that and tasteless centuries old army rations to want to eat anything but. 

You eat dinner at the table like civilised people - and flick rice grains at each other like not civilised people. Neither of you have the best table manners, if you're to going to be honest, and you might as well since this is your own head. You, because Carapacians tend to just cram everything into their surprisingly cavernous maws with their lil hands, at least the ones you grew up with, and Cronus because he's a gross disgusting toad. You've eaten with some of the other dancestors, nobody is as gross as Cronus (Damara is gross, but she is also one of the fucking biggest deadpan comedians you have ever met, holy shit). At least in the privacy of your own fricking hive, you can do what you like. Hive-home-place. You love the shit out of your little house, even considering the asshole you share it with. It's safe, and warm, and you have your cat and someone to talk to in real live personage, and it doesn't smell like the sea because you're surrounded by people, you open your window and you hear people living, people talking and laughing, the sound of cars and skuttlebuggies and just. Life. Movement. It's the best. 

After cleaning up from dinner, you both relocate to the couch and you manage to noogie him into continuing to watch Harry Potter with you. What can you say, you fucking. Love. Wizards. If he wasn't sooooo worried about looking cool, he could admit he fucking loved wizards too, but he is a _huge dweeb_ who is waaaay too worried about what people think is cool, and how that reflects on him. Which is hifuckinglarious because duh, there ain't a single body that you know of that thinks his fascination with greasers and 50s style human Americana is cool either. You have to admit you totes magotes appreciate the hell out of the tight blue jeans though. 

And just because you appreciate it so much, you lean in against him and sink your teeth into his earfin. He comes up off the couch with a yelp that makes your tummy squirm, and then you're both kissing each other hard enough to split a lip. You taste copper pennies and he snarls, and you laugh. If anyone ever has the upper hand in this kismesissitude, it's always you. You're the winner, you're the fucking ace. You're the best. He pushes you back against the couch, and you rip his shirt up into his armpits before he manages to squirm out of it, tearing a hole in it on his horns and cursing hard about it. You laugh, so he gets his claws into your shirt and rips it down the front.

"Hey!"

"All's fair in hate and war, pidge, you know that. Oh, hey, hey, _watch it_ , FUCK!" Everybody's clothes are a free for all after that, until you're both naked and rolling on the couch (you'd both made sure that this one was extra big after you managed to crack the back off the last one), almost falling off it as you finally get on top of him, rubbing your ass back against his bulge and slamming his shoulders back down into the couch. His earfins are way flared, all violet at the tips of the pokey-outey spines that make them fan out and gills flaring so pretty in his sides. You poke 'em, because you can and he hisses, flinches and you can feel his bulge squirming double-time up the crease of your ass, poking places where you don't reaaaally want it to go this time round. So you reach down, lifting your hips and grabbing the slick tentacle that makes up his dick-equivalent, letting it slap and curl around your fingers with its lil frill up the underside and pointy tip, honestly, it's kinda cute. And his nook is _all fucking kinds_ of pretty, not gonna even front here. 

"Just say it, Cronus."

"Say what? C'mon, don't fucking tease, Lalonde, fuck's sake." He lifts his hands to your breasts, squeezing them and rubbing his thumbs over the dark-tipped peaks, his skin still almost startling gray and inhuman against your warm brown. You bite your lip at the cool touch of his hands and just squeeze at his bulge a little harder until he grunts. "Fucking...just put it in already, fuck, _Roxy_ , you fuckin' minx."

"Say pleaaaaase," you chirp, and he pinches a nip between those yellow-y claws but not hard enough to draw blood, more than enough to make you jump a little. Yow! Ok, to be fair, that kinda went zinging straight down to your pussy, you are so in favour. You're already wet. You hold his bulge against your belly, violet slick dripping down into your pubes and you already know it's gonna be a mess but the way it makes his eyes glow to see how deep he'd reach inside you if there weren't pesky things like cervixes in the way is _amazing_. You should get a 'Congrats on being so good at sex' trophy. It could go up on the mantle right next to Byzantalthiar. And you could rub Cronus' face in it. Not literally of course, metaphorically. It's not like he'd have a trophy for sex. "Say please! Or you get to watch as I get myself off."

"Like you don't want it as much as I do." Oh, and that growl just _does_ shit for you. The grin on your face is probably best described as shit-eating and he scrapes his claws down your sides, so careful of your human skin. That fragility that sometimes you make him forget, make him lose control. "You want that cold bulge stuffed right up inside your pretty pussy, kitten."

"Psssh! I'm getting closer to going upstairs and finding my BOB, count down in five - four - three -"

"Please!" That comes out through gritted fangs and you let go of his bulge so you can pet his hair, rub a thumb against his horns and winning is these little mock fights is one of the best things you've ever felt. It's better than any drink you ever had. Not like he doesn't get you begging sometimes, but you'd set everything up to stir up his pitch, and surprise. You are the mistress of seduction, it is you. You'd been working on amping him up all evening, and now he's all snarly and hair all mussed and it's just. Yeah. You like seeing him like that. "Fucking - _please_ , you cruel fuckin' harpy, c'mon, put my bulge in your pussy or fuckin' - something - get your fingers in my nook, _I don't fuckin' care_ , let's just move this the fuck along!"

"Ding ding, right answer!" You use your fingers to guide the long violet curl of his bulge up between your pussylips and lower yourself down onto it. It's not like it's fully like jelly or something, they do tend to get stiffer when they're... _engorged_. Fuck, that's such a terrible word. _Engorged_. You make a note to use it in your next wizardly sex scene. You moan and he growls as you settle your ass on the cradle of his thighs, knees squeezing hard at his waist as he massages your chest like he can't get enough. And he really can't. Leaning down, you kiss him, almost sweet as you start to ride his bulge, feeling it curl and coil inside you, filling up every gap and space. Doubling back on itself, the frill on the underside something that never fails to make you twitch. It's this overwhelming feeling of pressure. And oh baby, baby, it's _so fucking good_. Especially when you use your fingers to rub your clit. Since Cronus' hands are busy on your tits, you're gonna forgive him. This time. It's not as though he hasn't learned how to get you off, but right now, you enjoy the gobsmacked look on his face almost as much as the thought of his hands somewhere other than your tits. "And the winner is...this gross guy."

"Fffuck you, Lalonde."

"Also me!" you hasten to assure him, and rock on the soft press of his bulge right up inside you. With your hands on his shoulders, feeling his fangs nip at your lower lip while his hands press and rub at your breasts. Fuck, so cold. It's so good. He bucks up with his hips, and you moan. "I'm also the fucking winner here, oh yeah, c'mon, Cro! Mmmph!" 

You get your hands into his horns again, and he moans, that low thrum that shivers right through your bones as it comes out of his fanged mouth. He buries his face in your breasts, and you lift your hips a little harder, a little faster as his bulge twists in you, looking for things that it was never gonna find. Rubbing up against your cervix as it tries to find a seedflap, that ache you've gotten familiar with, just completely bottomed out inside you. You're sooo full, it's umf. Just fucking amazing. God, you fucking love troll bulge. It's. Just so fucking good. You feel sorry for every humie who's never found this out.

Cronus is mumbling some sort of nonsense about how much you love it, and ok, kind of true but you're glad he's kinda smothered in your tits. That way you don't really have to listen, you can just kinda bounce and let the swell of pleasure in your stomach grow and build and oh yes. Yes, yes, yes, fuck! You're so close, so close, so close! His bulge flicks in just the right way and you fucking _scream_ , throwing your head back, pink-tipped strands going flying and whipping at your cheeks as he sucks at one of your nipples. You can just feel his fangs, pricking around your aureole as he sucks, until you're sure you're gonna be bruised, gonna bleed. You can't stop it; it's almost like you cum again, squeezing down around his bulge until he spills.

It's too late when you realise you forgot to put down a fucking towel.

Again.

He pants against your breasts, and you feel his bulge flick and squirm inside you as he rolls an eye up. The earfins flick.

"Wanna go again?"

"Fucking hells to the yes, bro."

At the end of it, you're sweating, sore and you've both ruined another fucking couch. This is getting expensive, honestly, you need to figure out a solution when you're less pleased with yourself. Slurry just gets right into the cushions and not even magic could make it better (although sometimes you do dwell fondly on the idea of a house elf, except obviously a free one, and wonder if a house elf could remove troll geneslime from fabric, it honestly would save you both a fortune - and if you could figure out how to do it with SCIENCE you could probably make yourself another handy little fortune, outside of the one the Game left you) (Memo to self - SCIENCE this later). Cronus is pressed up against you and he is so wonderfully cool, this smooth slide of alien skin too slick to be human and too cold to be a mammal all up every slick damp overheated inch of you. Ohhhh, but it feels _so good_ to be _so bad_.

"Cronus?"

"Mm?" You do enjoy that sated purr of his, low and deep in his chest and you feel the gills in his side open just a little. A tiny flutter against your skin. You curl your fingers through his hair as he breathes against your throat, and you wonder sometimes if it's just weird to him that he has to do that again, the whole breathing thing, after so many thousands of sweeps dead and a ghost. Not a question you'll think you'll ask - you're not his moirail. You run your hands through his hair as his head rests against your shoulder, rubbing your fingers along the lightning bolts of his horns. Such good handlebars, you love his horns and now he's purring real and proper, just like Mutini would as you press your thumbs into his hornbeds and rub your palms along the ridged struts. That maybe isn't exactly pitch, but you both like to cuddle, after. You can be soft, sometimes. And cuddle. Mmph. So cool.

"You ate my special Jane cookies, right?"

"They wvere pretty good, baby doll, I ain't gonna lie. Get your friend make up some more, huh?"

"I bet they were great, asshole." You pinch him on the hip, not that there's much there to pinch as he really isn't fat and more all sleek swimmer muscle and he mock-snarls. Oooh, shivery right in your belly and you'd almost want to get started again if your pussy wasn't feeling so deliciously sore. "I hope you really, reaaaally liked eatin' them and shit."

"An' vwhy's that?"

"Because I fed _your_ gross fish things to the cat - she loved the shit outta them too."

"VWhat?"

The shocked tone of his voice is everything you could have hoped for, and you nip his earfin with your teeth to hear him squawk before he starts complaining about how you feeding his snacks to the cat ain't equivalent to him stealing your fucking cookies and how it's such a travesty of justice, a complete over reaction and how much of a harpy you are. Just about what you expected, but his hand is still stroking your hip and across your belly, cool and heavy and hated and wanted, and you're pretty sure you wouldn't change a fucking thing about the way you've decided that all of this, and having him, constitutes Winning At Life.

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] has unblocked chassisAbyssopelagic [CA]!


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